Calendar Boys
by RedHawkeRevolver
Summary: The ladies of Skyhold are bored. That's never a good thing. A story from a prompt by the magnificent bushviper, in which the gentlemen of Skyhold are (happily?) objectified by their womenfolk. And also, Cullen is pretty. Cullen x F!Trevelyan and ensemble cast.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Much thanks and praise to bushviper, (the amazing writer of such classics as 'Would you have me beg?' which I've read more times than I care to admit, though I think my husband might be keeping track_ _) who thought up this prompt and let me run with it._

 _The names of the months in the world of Thedas: Wintermarch, Guardian, Drakonis, Cloudreach, Bloomingtide, Justinian, Solace, August, Kingsway, Harvestmere, Firstfall, Haring. So few months, so many men to fill them with..._

 _ **Chapter 1**_

He should have known something was amiss when she started waking up at dawn with him to observe the morning training exercises. Evelyn rarely woke up so early. In fact, it was so rare as to call it almost never. That situation alone should have been enough to set off alarm bells in the Commander's head.

She never interfered or interrupted. She mostly sat apart, on the ground or perched precariously on a ledge or wall, scribbling things on pieces of parchment. She would watch the men intently during their forms and study the sparring matches with a critical eye. Sometimes, she would get up and change her seating arrangement only to sit right back down and continue her work.

What that work was, Cullen had no idea. As this had been going on for several days now, however, he was starting to get nervous that she was going to show up in his office sometime soon, present him with her scraps of parchment and start _suggesting_ things. It wasn't that he didn't value her opinion. She was their Inquisitor after all, and a well-deserved title it was, but he had worked _very_ hard to keep Leliana's intrigues and Josephine's politics out of his army. He would never presume to tell their Spymaster how to blackmail nor would he presume to tell Josephine how to kiss a nobleman's ass. He expected the same regard. But he wouldn't put it past those two to try and manipulate Evelyn into doing their dirty work for them and use her intimate relationship with him to further their agendas.

If any of that parchment had any notes on it about appointing some noble dandy's pampered son as an officer or embedding a spy in one of his infantry units he was going to tell all three of the women just where they could put their _suggestions_.

But, it appeared he was granted another day of reprieve from whatever it was she was plotting when Evelyn smiled brightly at him in thanks for letting her observe for yet another morning and started gathering up her papers. She hugged them close to her chest as she tried to scurry past him with only a nod in parting. He wasn't about to let that happen, so he grabbed her arm and pulled her close enough to speak so they weren't overheard.

She clutched the parchment pieces tighter and she looked up at him nervously. Something was definitely suspicious, but he'd learned from many a hard lesson in the past that sometimes the best action was no action at all, so he let her odd behavior go for the moment and pledged to simply be more observant, hoping she would reveal herself before any gambit she was plotting went too far to fix.

"Can I see you this afternoon, Inquisitor? In my office?" He offered her a small smile and used just enough inflection in the low registers of his voice to hint at an entirely different request. They could usually both be convinced to set aside a little time for a midday tumble if their busy schedules permitted, and recently their duties had been comparatively light, so he saw no reason he should have to wait until dark to have a taste of her, especially when he knew something rough and quick would only make her more wanting when they settled into bed at night.

"I'm sorry, love, I don't think I can today." She replied with both disappointment and nervousness. "I have to meet with Leliana and Josephine this afternoon."

"I wasn't aware we had a council meeting?" Cullen asked.

"No, no it isn't that." She said, shaking her head a little too vigorously. "It's...another matter. We would never trouble you over it. I only heard a few details from them, that's why we planned to meet. Something with nobles or Orlesians or something you're sure to find distasteful. After they brief me, if there's anything at all I'd require your counsel for, I'll come find you straightaway, but I'm sure it's nothing of consequence. Please don't worry about it at all."

Well, that was far too many words to be convincing. But, again, Cullen let it slide. "Mm. Alright then. See you tonight." He playfully swatted her behind. No one was watching them to see it, but she let out a surprised squeak that drew a few heads to turn in their direction. Unfortunately, that tiny noise escaping her parted lips was enough to make him want to pull her into an alcove right now and have her up against a wall, but he was resigned to wait until this evening. She scampered away and he contented himself with watching her sweet little behind run into the keep and imagining what he'd do to it later.

xxxx

Evelyn couldn't get away from Cullen fast enough. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep this from him for long. He definitely suspected something. She almost tripped over her own feet scrambling up the courtyard steps into the main hall, hands grasping her drawings so tightly they were starting to get sweaty. She ran into Cassandra. Literally almost ran into her. She nearly panicked when the parchment stack fluttered out of her grasp only to be deftly scooped up by the Seeker before they even hit the floor. She shoved them back into Evelyn's waiting embrace and pulled her along by the arm towards Josephine's office.

"You should be more careful with those." Cassandra scolded her.

"I know! I'm sorry!" Evelyn's eyes darted around making sure no one was close enough to hear their conversation. "And I think Cullen suspects something! I told you I'd be rubbish at keeping a secret. What if he sees?"

Cassandra scoffed. "He knows nothing. You are worrying too much. Calm down. You look like someone who's guilty of something."

"Aren't we?" Evelyn whispered.

"Of course not. And we've received a few more requests. We can discuss them now." Cassandra led her into Josephine's office where both the Ambassador and Leliana were taking tea by the fire.

Josephine rose and started pouring two additional cups while Leliana pulled over two more chairs. The ladies all sat and, after checking that both doors were shut, Evelyn set her papers across her lap and relaxed back into her seat.

"You look flushed, Inquisitor." Leliana asked amicably. "Is something the matter?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "She's worried about Cullen... _spoiling_ things."

Leliana and Josephine looked at each other and then they both laughed. "Poor sweet, Evelyn." Leliana sang. "Our dear Commander doesn't know a thing about this, I assure you." And then she added with a raised eyebrow. "And even if he did find out, I'm sure you wouldn't be too troubled if he chose to punish you for it just a little."

Evelyn blushed a shade darker than she had already been sporting all morning. "You said something about more requests, Cassandra." She said quickly trying to divert the subject away from her apparently well know amorous proclivities with the Commander.

"Yes, Dorian just pulled me aside in the library and requested Knight-Captain Rylen."

Evelyn's anxiety was washed away by excitement. She had been hoping against hope someone would request him. Not that she had any personal requests for anyone but Cullen, but, well, _Templars_... Bless Dorian for thinking of him. She knew it had been a good idea to let that beautiful mage in on the action. The man had _impeccable_ taste in men.

"I can definitely do that!" She responded enthusiastically. "He leads most of the morning exercises, so I've had loads of time to study him." She started shuffling through her papers. "I've already drawn a few quick sketches of him in particular..."

Josephine questioned Casandra. "He asked for Rylen? Why not The Iron Bull?"

"I wondered that as well, and he said, and I quote _'I see that great oaf every night. At least for the month of Wintermarch I'll get to see that strapping Templar every day too. Variety, my dear Seeker, is the spice of life.'_ " Cassandra's impression of both Dorian's accent and his usual carefree, yet disdainful, tone was uncannily accurate.

"Why does he want him to be Wintermarch?" Leliana asked.

Cassandra assumed Dorian's persona again. "Because the weather is ghastly for all of Wintermarch and if I have to be frozen to the bone, I want his steamy body gracing my wall to warm me." They all laughed, then she added, in her own voice this time, "And besides, Lysette requested the Knight-Captain as well."

Evelyn found that interesting, and she said so. "I wouldn't have thought her the type to go for tattoos."

"It's the accent." Josephine answered dreamily. "Who could resist that lovely brogue coming from that rugged body?"

Leliana smiled widely. "Is that your choice too for our little calendar then, Josie?"

"Oh, Maker no! I can't waste my pick on someone who's already been chosen twice."

Josephine. The very spirit of practicality.

The Ambassador continued. "I choose Ser Barris." She said definitively. "He will make a perfect Messere Drakonis. The month he joined the Inquisition."

"Very well then," Leliana said, "Evelyn should be able to observe him quite well in the mornings, same as Ser Rylen." The Nightingale reached out for the sketches in Evelyn's lap and started looking over them. "These are quite delicious already Inquisitor. You have a talent for capturing the male form."

"Oh, these are just rough drafts, I plan on making them much more... _detailed_ before we get them printed up." Evelyn winked.

"I don't see our very pretty Commander here though?" Leliana asked. "Do you have the same sentiments as Dorian about wanting something novel?" It was her turn to wink now.

Evelyn giggled. "Not a bit! I'm perfectly content for Cullen to grace my bed and my walls and every piece of furniture in between every month of the year. I simply can't decide how to pose him."

Cassandra spoke up again. "I'm sure you'll think of something. We do still have to address how we're going to print sufficient copies with discretion. We have at least two dozen requests for the final product already."

"We're going to have to ask him eventually." Josephine said. "He's the only person I can think of who would know a printer that would keep quiet about our project. May as well get it over with and speak with him as soon as possible."

Evelyn's stomach tied in knots. She'd been dreading this. This was going to be the start of endless insufferable looks, smug smiles and thinly veiled innuendo, likely in hearing distance of Cullen as often as he could manage to torture her with it.

She sighed deeply. "I suppose I'll go find Varric."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Let me get this straight." Varric drawled out, already the picture of smugness. "You and the ladies are making an illustrated calendar depicting racy pictures of real men you see every day, and you need my help?"

"With the _printing_ Varric, just the printing." Evelyn said for the third time. He was drawing this out on purpose. The longer she stood there in the middle of the hall looking guilty and trying to convince Varric to help, the more likely it was Cullen would come in and see her _looking guilty_. "If you would be so kind as to provide us with the name of a printer who can be _discreet_ , that will be _sufficient_ help and you'll have our _everlasting thanks_."

Varric just chuckled and Evelyn rolled her eyes, letting out a heaving sigh. Of course. _Of course_ he would be eating this up.

"Nightingale and Ruffles are in on this too? And Seeker as well, you say?"

"Yes, Varric! Now are you going help or not?" Evelyn stomped her foot petulantly, her drawings crinkling in her hands as she unconsciously started balling them into fists.

"Weeellllll, that's just the thing. I have a reputation to uphold. I can't be seen associating myself with just any smut, now can I?"

Evelyn relented, slammed her papers down on the table and pulled out a chair. She straddled it, threw on her Wicked Grace face, and leaned forward. "Alright, dwarf, I get it. Just name your terms."

Varric leaned forward as well, all business. "Thirty percent of the revenue and exclusive rights to distribute next year's issue."

"Fifteen percent. And there isn't even an issue _this_ year yet. What makes you so sure there will be a _next_?"

"Porn sells, sweetheart. Twenty-five."

"This isn't porn. It's art. Twenty."

"You know who appreciates art?" Varric smiled. "Curly. Thirty. And I'm Harvestmere."

"I hate you."

"You love me. Thirty. Harvestmere."

"Done." Evelyn plopped her head down onto the table, landing on top of her sketches. _That was exhausting_. "I hope you're happy. Now, can you just give me the damn printer's information?"

"I'll deliver him the final draft myself. All in good time, though. Like I said, I need to be assured of quality. Let's see what you've got so far." Varric tugged the parchment out from under Evelyn's face. She looked up but didn't look directly at him, not wanting to seem like she was eager to hear his opinion, even though she was.

He took a long while as he shuffled through them, nodding his head and making 'mmhmm' sounds here and there. Finally he spoke. "I approve of your overall quality. I bet whatever governess taught you to draw would be thrilled you're using the lessons your father paid good coin for to better the world."

Evelyn frowned.

"Fine. Fine. Seriously, though, you have talent. Better than the illustrator I use for my novels, I can tell you that. It just needs a little tweaking. Here and there. I have several suggestions. For instance, you need more variety. It's the spice of life, you know."

Evelyn's frown grew deeper. "Dorian said the same thing actually. Go on."

"Yeah. Well. Great minds think alike. Anyway, all the men you have depicted here are our soldiers. Mostly the Templars. A big stud with miles of muscle is good for some, but not everyone has the same tastes. So unless you're going to make this into a Templars of Thedas exclusive, we need to think about throwing a wider net. I always make it a point to add a few side romances in my stories, both to spice things up and give the reader something different to sink their teeth into. A person can't live on Templars alone, you know."

"I beg to differ, but continue."

"Do you draw from memory or do you need subjects to study?" Varric asked and then his eyes went wide. "Oh! So that's why you've been getting up at the butt crack of dawn with Curly. You're checking out his men while they train. That's a good idea actually, but that explains why all you have here are a bunch of axe throwers."

"I'll have you know most of the requests we've gotten have been for men in our army. But that being said, I follow your reasoning. How do you propose we diversify?" Evelyn was not opposed to seeking out other subjects. Even if her tastes favored muscle bound men in armor with large swords, she could appreciate that others might appreciate other forms of eye candy. Also, it would give her a reason to stop observing morning training and possibly throw Cullen off her tail. Well, she still wanted him _on her tail_. But only in the bedroom.

"Lucky for us, Ruffles is always looking to invite more guests here so she can parade you around and get people to drop some coin. I'll give her a list of subjects that I think would work out. In fact, I think Sebastian Vale is actually due to visit next week isn't he? I know him. We go back a long way. He'd be perfect."

Evelyn was scandalized. "Varric!" She said a little too loud then caught herself and whispered. "We can't publish naked pictures of the Prince of Starkhaven!"

"Sure we can. Choir Boy's perfect for this. He's royalty. Women eat that shit up. And also we can work on setting the scenes. Placement and props and all that. I see a Chantry alter, a cleverly placed sunburst and maybe his longbow. Andraste's finest looking fine for the ladies of Thedas."

Evelyn's head fell back down onto the table. _What had she gotten herself into?_

"Come on." Varric goaded. "As a purveyor of porn myself, I know what's popular. Trust me."

There was possibly no one in Skyhold she trusted less. She collected her drawings and stood. "Just keep this quiet, please, okay?

"Yeah, yeah. And also, when you get to me, make sure you do the chest hair justice. I reserve the right to send you back to the drawing board if it isn't an accurate representation of my extreme masculinity."

She waved him off and headed out into the courtyard to find Cassandra. As a connoisseur of Varric's particular brand of smut, Evelyn wanted to see if the Seeker agreed with the shady dwarf's suggestions. She found Cassandra standing with her arms folded across her chest and a severe look on her face. Her brows were dipped together and her lips were pursed tightly into thin lines. They were in the lower courtyard and there was activity going on at the stables. Cassandra looked on intently.

Evelyn squinted against the sunlight to see a group of Grey Wardens handing over their mounts to Dennet. "I didn't know the Wardens were scheduled to visit. I hope all is well with their rebuilding efforts." Her eyes went immediately to the austere countenance of Warden Loghain. His ink black hair fell carelessly just across the tops of his ears and, aside from Cassandra, Evelyn thought he might be the only other person on whom a scowl actually looked attractive. Also much like Cassandra, however, since that seemed to be the man's default facial expression it was difficult to tell if something was wrong or if he was perfectly content. "I should make sure there aren't any problems I'm need for..."

Evelyn was about to go over to the group, but Cassandra held her back firmly. "They are only here to resupply on their way west."

"Oh, um, alright." Cassandra hadn't let go of her arm. In fact, she was starting to squeeze it harder. It hurt a little. Evelyn was about to say so when Cassandra spoke again.

"Him."

"Who?"

" _Him_. I want _him_."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at Cassandra's cryptic admission. "You want _him_...?" She repeated back.

Cassandra was snapped out of her concentrated stare at Evelyn's question. "I...uh..." She stuttered, then coughed trying to compose herself. "I mean...for the Calendar. _Warden_ _Loghain_."

"Oh!" _Oh, indeed!_ "The wheels in Evelyn's head started turning. She couldn't say that she'd ever looked at the stalwart warden that way, but it was becoming clear from the uncharacteristic blush rising in Cassandra's cheeks, that _she_ had.

Evelyn looked from her friend to Loghain and it surprised her to find that the man was very obviously looking back at the Seeker. His icy blue eyes, that Evelyn had always thought held a cold aloofness, seemed to have taken on a decidedly more _heated_ shade.

"And how long will the Warden and his men be staying at Skyhold?" Evelyn asked.

"A day at most." As expected, there was disappointment in the reply.

"You know, Cassandra, I believe I remember hearing we're quite short stocked at the moment in several critical supplies that would be needed for an extended trip west. The wardens might have to stay until we can spare them what they need. I'll go see the quartermaster about it." Evelyn leaned in to whisper. "Besides, I'll need to watch him a little to get the image right. Maybe you could ask him to spar with you...?"

Cassandra smiled. "I believe I can do that, Inquisitor." And she walked off with determination and not a small amount of _sway_ in her steps.

Evelyn left the stable yard eager to sit and work on what was becoming a growing list filled with inspiration of every shape, color and category. She wickedly wondered if this was what a brothel Madame felt like.

She practically ran to the gardens, where the light would be best at this time of day. She settled herself on a bench in a far corner concealed by the gazebo. Hopefully she would avoid notice.

She set to work diligently, her stomach fluttering all the while with anticipation, although she knew not what she was anticipating. Maybe it was just the idea that she would be depicting the fantasies of others, _and her own_. She would be the anonymous purveyor, as Varric had put it, of people's deepest desires made tangible. At least as tangible as they could be without being flesh. It would be like she was participating in a secret threesome. The artist, the art and the viewer.

Her hand worked with a feverish intensity. She went through each man they had listed so far in turn. She took Varric's suggestions to heart and worked on the settings she placed her subjects in, trying to weave a story with only a single image.

Ser Rylen was drawn stepping out of a burning building. Flames licked at the bare skin of his torso from behind. Shadows played on his lean and chiseled form. He wore a grave expression on his face but his eyes were alight with wit. The hard lines of his tattoos stood in contrast against the flow of the long Templar skirts he wore, _which was all he wore._ One muscular leg was shown naked and in motion as he strode forward. He had once told Evelyn that if the barracks were on fire, he'd be going for water, not standing around smiting the ash for heresy. She always remembered that practical cleverness, if not outright sarcasm. It reminded her a great deal of Cullen. It was probably why the two men worked so well together.

Fleetingly, she wondered how she could objectify a man she respected so much. Then she quickly decided to push that thought aside in favor of working on Ser Barris.

For him she drew Lake Calenhad, which she knew was near his ancestral home. He was walking into the lake by the light of the moon, the Circle Tower in the distance. The dark waters came just above his waist, the tiny waves being the only thing adorning him. With one hand he reached his fingertips out to graze the rippling surface of the lake. His other hand held the grip of his sword, its blade resting casually on his shoulder. He looked out at the viewer with a keen intelligence and noble bearing.

Evelyn say back for a moment. The sun was setting, so there was really no reason she should feel so hot. She fanned herself with a scrap of parchment. After quickly fetching some candles so she could continue her work, she set them around her to cast light. She stretched out the sweet ache in her hand and soldiered on.

She thought of Varric, but wasn't ready to tackle the monumental task that was his terribly manly chest hair, so she went for his suggestion instead. She had only met the Starkhaven Prince once before, but she thought it might be good practice to see what she could do from memory.

Similar to what Varric envisioned, she set the prince at prayer before a Chantry alter, in a similar state of undress as her previous two subjects. Not quite blasphemous enough to cover an erection with the divine sunburst, she drew him from an angle where his manhood would be concealed by his leg as he perched on one knee, leaning on an ornate long bow. His clear and peaceful eyes were turned up towards the heavens, his aquiline nose setting off his proud and regal features.

Evelyn held up Sebastian's portrait. _Not bad_. She told herself. And she hadn't seen the Prince in months. With new found confidence she decided to tackle Warden Loghain. She had no doubt Cassandra would manage to get him to parade around in the sparring ring a little tomorrow so she could observe and take notes, but right now, she was on a roll.

After bringing over a torch to set in a nearby sconce for more light as it was now well into the evening, Evelyn started on Loghain. The first thing that came to mind to set the scene was a griffon, but that was so cliché. Varric probably wouldn't approve of such a pedestrian tactic.

She opted to set him in a Fereldan wood. The man was always so dutifully serious, she decided to go the opposite route and have him in a relaxed pose. He reclined beneath a large tree on a bed of moss. Hands clasped behind his head, eyes closed in slumber. His warden armor was strewn about the forest floor. The only piece actually covering him was the griffon emblazoned breast plate propped in front of his midsection, the corner of it concealing just enough to be decent. Just _barely_ enough. She spent a bit of extra time defining the muscles of his chest and gracing them with a dark shadow of chest hair begging to be touched.

She hoped Cassandra would approve. It was possible she might like an action scene instead. She would have to consult with the Seeker in the morning to determine her preferences.

Evelyn yawned wide and arched her back. She idly wondered what kind of scene she'd like to see Cullen in. Her favorite vision of her golden lion was, of course, in their bed, hair tousled, eyes hungry, mouth turned up in a cheeky smirk. But she wouldn't be drawing _that_ Cullen. That Cullen was just for her. She didn't mind so much anymore that others, _many many others_ , frequently ogled her man, but some things were sacred, and the way he looked when he was buried balls deep inside her was definitely sacred.

Should she draw him with sword and shield? Or wearing nothing but his red mantle draped in his lap? Or maybe similar to Sebastian, knelt in prayer. He was unbearably sexy when he prayed.

It was officially the middle of the night. Having spent the entirety of her evening with mostly naked men, Evelyn suddenly realized she couldn't get upstairs to Cullen fast enough. When she arrived in their spacious room at the top of the highest tower in the keep, she noticed Cullen was already in bed, asleep.

A wave of disappointment hit her, but she decided she was far too aroused to let him sleep. He wouldn't mind just this once.

She stripped off her clothes like they were on fire and practically dove under the blankets. She was all hands, searching him out, rubbing, caressing, reaching, _grabbing_...

Cullen jerked awake and sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. Evelyn froze. He looked down at her, hand not so much caught in the cookie jar as it was caught wrapped around his cock. She looked up at him with wide eyes and licked her lips.

"Maker take you, Evelyn! What are doing? It's nearly dawn, where in the blazes have you been all night?"

She really didn't want to have to lie to him right before they made love, but she simply had to lie. And she simply had to make love to him. "I'm so sorry, love, I was just tied up with that business with Leliana and Josephine from earlier. But I'm here now, and I need you desperately, Cullen. Please?" She fondled him gently and he exhaled a shaky breath. "I'll do all the work..." She offered in a low and suggestive tone.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and gave her one of the smirks she so loved. He settled back against the pillows and put his hands behind his head, reminiscent of the pose she put Loghain in. "Get to it then, girl." He ordered, not sounding put out in the least.

She happily threw back the sheets and repositioned herself atop him. She saw his eyes move up and down, taking her in, a beam of moonlight shining just across her breasts. She let her eyes roam as well. The tousled hair, the amber eyes gone dark just for her, the scattered soft lines of faded scars.

Oh, but he was _delicious._

She leaned forward bringing their faces together. Her lips hovered just above his, but she was careful not to touch them. Their eyes were locked together. She ran her hands up and down his chest, across his broad shoulders and up into his beautiful curls. She ran light fingertips along his throat and all the way down to his hips, all the while keeping their mouths almost meeting but not quite.

Her hands found his length again, full and thick and hard now and reaching up to meet her touch. She closed around it tightly, sliding up and down just until he was wanting enough to lift his hips up eagerly to meet her strokes. Then, she lined herself up, sliding the crown of him along her soaking slit back and forth and back and forth until she thought she might just come from that motion alone. His smirk was long gone now and his hands and come up to grasp at her hair, cradling the back of her head. His eyes, _Maker_ _his eyes,_ were pools of desire she wanted to drown in.

Still holding his gaze she sunk down hard onto him in one motion. Neither of them even blinked but their jaws each dropped open with unvoiced shock and satisfaction at the contact, hot and wet and full and _tight_. She ground herself against him and a low rumble of pleasure escaped his throat. She felt the air of it caress her lips.

Faces still so close, but still held apart was how she kept it as she lifted herself up, her sheath nearly letting him go, before plunging back down and repeating the long languorous motions over and over and over again. She wanted to lean forward the small fraction and capture his lips, taste his tongue and suffocate inside his kiss, but waiting for it... _waiting_...until just the right moment would be so much more intense. So she forced herself to just look and satisfied herself with his cock piercing deep inside her cunt and his eyes piercing deep inside her soul.

It wasn't long, not long at all, far too short a time, far too few thrusts, before both of them were panting and he gave up letting her do the work, grabbing at her hips and pounding into her from below.

A low moan from him and a thrust so deep it shook her was all it took for her to break apart, split atop him. She felt her peak explode inside her and she pushed herself forward just in time to capture his lips in a searing, longing kiss, tongues and teeth and breath crashing together as she captured his seed inside her.

She fell against him when their bliss subsided, catching deep gulps of air and letting her mind start wandering towards the Fade. He snuggled her closer and laid tender kisses atop her head, himself also settling back down into sleep. But just as she was drifting into unconsciousness, she heard him say with an obvious smile in his voice,

"It's almost worth letting you lie to me if you fuck me like that every time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Cullen felt Evelyn stiffen against him at his accusation. She feigned an innocent gasp. "Cullen...I..."

"Don't even try, Evelyn. In fact, it's probably better if you stayed silent rather than incriminate yourself any further." He was trying to sound angry but, truth be told, he was really more amused, perhaps with a small bit of annoyance. He still hadn't figured out what she was up to, but he knew she wouldn't keep anything truly important from him. And he also knew that this wasn't entirely her fault.

She never did anything she thought might bother him unless she had accomplices. Really, he was more upset with Leliana and Josephine, _because it was always Leliana and Josephine,_ for either pushing his very devoted Evelyn into doing whatever it was they were trying to keep from him or, if not pushing her to do it, they were certainly talking down her conscience and goading her forward in this secret endeavor.

Evelyn squirmed and tried to sit up. He held her tighter and reached down to pull the sheets back over them both. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair as he continue to talk in a low murmur, his lips brushing her dark locks with each word. "I don't know what's going on yet, but it'll come out eventually. These _ill-advised_ machinations of yours always do, and you know it. Frankly, I hope it goes on a while longer. It gives me more time to think about how I'm going to _punish_ you when your secret is revealed."

Cullen felt her heartbeat quicken inside her chest where it was pressed up against his, but she kept quiet. He loved it when she was teetering on the edge of anxiety. Even more so when he was the cause. She was so... _ravishing_ when she was just a little bit nervous.

He fell asleep content with the world and with a smile on his face.

xxxx

When Evelyn woke to birds chirping and the sun shining brightly across the bed, Cullen was already gone. Her sketches were thankfully still undisturbed beneath the pile of her clothes and boots from last night. She spent a few more moments in bed, luxuriating in having slept in for the first time in a while. She was glad to not feel obligated to observe morning exercises any longer, but she would need to decide which subjects she would tackle next.

She rolled around between the sheets, hugging Cullen's pillow to her face and enjoying the lingering scent of him. When she had her fill, she rose and dressed quickly, packing up her drawing supplies and fresh parchment. She realized she would have to be more careful given that Cullen obviously knew she was hiding something, but she couldn't bring herself to be upset when his statement about what would happen if and when he found out held such promise.

Then again, it wasn't just her who would be found out. She had no desire to cause her friends embarrassment over their shared guilty pleasures. She knew Cassandra especially wouldn't find it amusing if all of Skyhold knew how she spent her free time. Unless Warden Loghain had reason to mirror Cullen's reaction...

Evelyn suppressed a giggle as she sat down to eat breakfast in the main hall. Her eyes were fixed forward and she tucked into her food half-heartedly. She let her mind wander, wondering if she should start on Varric's Harvestmere self-request or if she should see if Cassandra had talked the warden into sparring. She was so distracted by her thoughts, she didn't even notice the imposing figure of The Iron Bull walk past her and slip a note next to her plate. She only saw it after she finished her meal and got up, knocking it off the table. It caught her eye when it drifted to the floor.

She looked around curiously and bent to retrieve the small envelope. _'Inquisitor's eyes only'_ was written on the front in Bull's neat and blocky print. She sat back down and tore into the letter.

 _Boss,_

 _Dorian told me. But even if he hadn't, you're really the worst at hiding things when it comes to sex stuff. Second only to Cullen, who, by the way, suspects something but is oblivious to the details. I'm not going to be the one to tell him. Although I should. I'm hurt I wasn't first on the list. But I understand you probably wouldn't want to make the other men look bad having to be featured next to The Bull. You can make it up to me by fulfilling a commission. A private calendar for my own personal use._

In the margin next to that sentence was added in Dorian's elegantly flowing script, 'Mine too.'

 _I've attached a list of subjects and scenes as a general guideline. If inspiration hits, feel free to elaborate. No need to tell the dwarf or your little girlfriends. And then there will be no need to tell Cullen._

 _Thanks Boss,_

 _Bull._

Evelyn couldn't believe it. Had she just been blackmailed twice in as many days? She was starting to feel like people only wanted her for one thing lately and it wasn't her charming personality. If she had known being able to draw naked men would be so perilous she might have chosen another hobby.

She sat back in her chair and silently considered Bull's proposal. She supposed it couldn't hurt to make some special drawings for him and Dorian. They really were so adorable together and Dorian was finally feeling comfortable being affectionate with Bull. She didn't want to begrudge two of her dearest friends, who had become dear to each other, anything.

She sighed and turned to the second page of the letter. She perused the list. In one column were names, in another were descriptions of settings to pose them in. It started out innocently enough.

 _Michel de Chevin._

 _Ooooo!_ Neither she nor any of the girls had thought of him. Leave it to Bull and Dorian to remember one of the Inquisition's most gallant warriors. She had seen the former Chevalier bloodied and knee deep in dead enemies and even then he had looked impeccably dashing. She scanned across the page to see how they wanted him drawn. Her imagination started to run wild. Maybe he could be sitting on a bench in a finely manicured Orlesian garden, sword propped up next to him, a book of poetry resting in his lap _hiding poetry beneath_ , a single rose clenched in his teeth, looking wantonly up at the viewer...

Her imagined rose shriveled and the fantasy Orlesian garden blew away as ash when she read how they wanted to see him instead. It was a far cry from poetry and come hither looks. She nearly cried out in shock when she quickly read the rest of the names and scenarios.

She couldn't possibly draw... _this_! _These_! All of.. _that_! She wasn't entirely sure she even knew what _'that'_ was. She quickly stuffed the letter back in the envelope and marched from the hall in search of Bull.

She found him in the tavern, _of course_ , lounging lazily in his chair by the far wall. Thankfully, it was too early in the morning to be busy so if they spoke softly they wouldn't be over heard.

"Boss." He greeted her. "Anything I can do for you?" He asked casually.

"We need to talk." She said through clenched teeth as she brandished his letter and pulled up a chair to sit close. "I can't draw... _all this_!"

He had the nerve to look genuinely confused. "What do you mean?" He also had the nerve to sound genuinely disappointed. "Dorian said you were really good."

"That's not what I mean, Bull, and you know it!" She leaned in closer and whispered harshly. "I can't draw Michel de Chevin..." She lowered her voice even more and she felt a blush heat her cheeks. "...on all fours wearing a Mabari collar!"

"Well why not?" He asked, infuriatingly loudly. "Don't you think he'd be into it? That's okay, we can work with that. You can give him an ashamed, reluctant look. That's even better, actually." He growled behind a lewd smile.

Evelyn rolled her eyes and smacked her forehead with her hand. She opened up the letter and pointed at the next name. "Fenris, Bull? Marian Hawke's Fenris?! Tied to a bed? _'Looking like he needs to be disciplined_.''' She quoted his request exactly. "Are you trying to get me murdered? What if they found out?"

"Bah." He dismissed her objections with a wave of his hand. "As long as Varric doesn't find out, neither will they. Besides, Cullen wouldn't let them hurt you." Bull licked his lips and stared off into the distance. "That elf with the giant sword. Sexy." Evelyn was starting to feel uncomfortable being present as he fantasized, but then he focused on her again. "Is that all you're worried about?"

She ignored him and continued her protests. "And what about this one? Professor Kenric? From the University? Really?! How in the world do you think this is appropriate? He is a respected scholar. I'm not drawing him with... _that_... _there_!"

Bull just chuckled. "Yeah. I don't know what that's about. It was Dorian's suggestion. He likes those Starkhaven boys. The accent, I guess. Can't blame him. Just the thought of hearing that bookworm beg with that _accent_...love it."

She was getting nowhere. "For the love of Andraste! I don't even know who this person is." She showed Bull the name hastily scrawled in at the bottom.

"Oh. Sure you do. You know Jim. Don't you remember? He caught you and the Commander sucking face on the battlements once before anyone knew the two of you were officially an item. Did you know Cullen put him on overnight sentry duty for a month after that? Anyway, I _know_ he won't mind. You really should come drink with us here more often. The guy's a legend. Ask any of the bar maids. Apparently he can do this thing with his..."

"Stop!" Evelyn held up a hand and shouted. She couldn't say she remembered 'Jim'. She couldn't say she gave a nug's ass who Jim even was. So she really didn't care to know what he could do with any of his anything. "Bull, listen to me carefully: I'm. Not. Doing. This."

"Just Jim or...?"

"None of it! I'm not illustrating your little calendar of bondage and sadism. For you or Dorian!"

Bull huffed and, though Evelyn could hardly believe it, he actually seemed to be pouting. "You're no fun, Boss. Just when I thought Cullen loosened you up a little."

Evelyn decided it was fortunate she was sitting in a tavern because she very much felt like she needed a drink. She took a moment to collect herself, then she set Bull's letter down on her chair and rose to go get some liquid courage at the bar before she made a second attempt at clarifying things for her 'friend'. She didn't make it far because she ran into someone.

The man sputtered and backed up a step. "Inquisitor! Sister Leliana and the Ambassador sent me to find you. You're needed back in the keep, Your Worship."

Evelyn took a deep breath. Well, maybe this distraction would calm her down a bit. She hoped it was something important to take her mind off of the frivolities that had taken a decidedly kinky turn. "Of course, thank you...um..." She knew she'd seen this soldier before, but couldn't remember his name.

"Jim." Bull assisted from behind her.

"Yes, Jim...uh..." Her eyes went wide. _"...Jim?!"_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Evelyn rushed out of the tavern, _past the enigmatic Jim_ , with the sounds of Bull's laughter behind her. Whatever this was that Josephine and Leliana wanted her for, it better have nothing to do with men, naked or otherwise, because she needed a break. Apparently there _can_ be 'too much of a good thing'.

She practically ran across Skyhold with a racing heart and flushed cheeks, feeling too warm by half. Varric shouted out a greeting and tried to intercept her as she passed him in the main hall, but she waved him off. The last thing she needed to discuss right now was pornography and his chest hair's involvement in it.

It was only _after_ she barreled through the door to Josephine's office that she realized she had left all of her... _things_...in the tavern.

 _"SHIT!"_ She shouted out, and then immediately clapped her hands over her Maker damned mouth. Leliana and Josephine stared at her, their shocked looks matching her own. Evelyn's poorly timed exclamation found itself gracing not only her advisor's ears, but an unexpected honored guest's. The Hero of Ferelden, Queen Elissa Cousland Theirin.

 _Shit!_ She sent up a prayer to Andraste, begging that if the Holy Lady would just allow her incriminating drawings to remain untouched in the tavern, she would sing the Canticle of Transfigurations in its entirety every morning at dawn for the next week.

Collecting her frayed wits as best she could, she swept a mask of calm nobility across her face, straightened her back and then offered a neat bow to the Queen. Evelyn was sweating. _Maker_ was she sweating. But she'd be damned before she let royalty see it. She would ignore her own little outburst as if nothing ever happened and therefore the polite thing for Elissa to do would be to ignore it as well. And thus was the Game played.

Evelyn further calmed herself by recalling Cullen's drunken story about a young Templar, _who she was convinced was Cullen himself_ , saluting the collected inhabitants of the Circle Tower in the buff. The recollection of the story and then the memory of present-day-Cullen in the buff after a magnificent loss at cards to Josephine gave her a bit of confidence and she was able to put a charming smile upon her face before she rose and moved forward to address their guest.

"My Lady, I had no idea we were to be graced with a visit. I'm so sorry I wasn't present immediately to greet you." Evelyn was now the picture of propriety, even if she was somewhat annoyed at the Ferelden Crown for not having announced their visit appropriately. She and Josephine could have prepared a reception and she was sure Cullen would have wanted to increase the guard rotation in advance of their stay and see to proper security. Unfortunately, Leliana had warned them long ago that the royal couple was infuriatingly informal about their travel and disturbingly lax in seeing to their own safety.

 _"They felled an Archdemon, Inquisitor," Leliana would say, sounding terribly amused, every time they came to visit, "Anything else poses a far lesser challenge for them."_

Elissa rolled her eyes at Evelyn's doting. "The last thing Alistair would want is a reception, Lady Trevelyan."

"If His Majesty is here as well, then please my Lady, accept my apologies for the Inquisition not being better prepared. We shall immediately..." The Queen cut her off with lilting laughter.

"No need for such formalities, Inquisitor. We should be apologizing to you. It was actually quite a last minute decision to impose upon Skyhold's hospitality. We received word that Prince Sebastian was visiting in a few days' time and your Ambassador was kind enough to offer to host us for our trade negotiations with Starkhaven. Diplomatic relations have been a little _touchy_ between Alistair and the Prince since he gave the mages sanctuary, but we've smoothed things over enough to talk face to face again and we're grateful to have the Inquisition offer us neutral ground on which to do so."

Evelyn offered another short bow in acknowledgement. _She really needed to get back to the tavern!_

"Inquisitor, would you mind walking with me? I'd like to find Alistair. He went immediately to see your Commander as soon as we arrived. Shall we try to find them together?" The Queen bid good day to Josephine and gave Leliana a warm hug, then approached Evelyn and offered her arm. The two ladies walked together to find their men.

When they were outside and away from the eager ears of the various gossips scattered about the main hall, Elissa leaned over to her and whispered. "I wanted to congratulate you, my dear, on your betrothal to Cullen. I know it isn't public yet, but I pried it out of Leliana. You two are so adorable, I was certain it would happen soon."

Evelyn couldn't help but smile, both at the well wishes and the fact that this woman was capable of 'prying' something out of their Spymaster. "Thank you, my Lady." She replied absently. _She really needed to fetch her things!_

They strolled their way up to the battlements more slowly than Evelyn thought she had ever travelled in her life. Finally they spotted the two former Templars talking amicably. The Queen stopped before the men noticed them and whispered to Evelyn again.

"I heard from Leliana that you're a woman of many talents, Inquisitor." The Queen was looking right at her with one suggestive royal eyebrow raised. Evelyn just stared back waiting for her to continue. Then it hit her.

 _Leliana couldn't possibly have told her! Of course that sneaky ginger told her, they're best friends!_

Evelyn wondered if she'd survive trying to murder the future Divine.

Elissa clearly saw realization and guilty admission flash in Evelyn's eyes. The Queen nodded her head. "My husband. On his throne. With just his crown. Kingsway. Of course." And with a smile and a wink, she left Evelyn and approached the King.

When he saw his Queen, Alistair grinned and blushed like a boy. She hoped after ten odd years, Cullen still looked at her like that. When the royal couple shared a brief kiss, she looked over at Cullen and found him staring at her with the same blush as Alistair. Evelyn relaxed... _despite the fact that she needed to be in the tavern right now more than she needed to continue breathing._

Before she walked over to join them, Evelyn took a moment to look at the men. Their imposing height. Their broad shoulders. Their chiseled features. Their boyish smirks. Their soulful eyes.

As she stepped towards them, she offered another prayer to Andraste, begging forgiveness just in case it was a sin to draw another woman's husband naked. Even if the other woman _had_ asked.

The two couples spent the afternoon together and shared their evening meal. Afterwards, the Commander and the King moved to Cullen's office to discuss more business...and to share the bottle of Antivan brandy she saw Josephine slip onto Cullen's desk earlier.

The Queen decided to retire early and Evelyn showed her to their rooms. Just before Elissa closed the chamber door, she said, "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable earlier. If it helps, Alistair won't care in the least. He'll be quite excited by it, honestly. It'll be a gift. And if you'll take some advice from an old married woman, remember to keep things exciting. Although it seems like you're already on the right track" After another wink, the Queen said good night and left Evelyn in the corridor alone.

 _She could finally get back to the tavern!_

Wanting to run, but not wanting to look suspicious, Evelyn wound through the hallways of Skyhold at a brisk pace. They were largely deserted. At least they were, until she came to the corridor where Cassandra's room was. She froze and held her breath when she saw the Seeker standing outside her bedroom locked in a passionate kiss with Warden Loghain.

Evelyn was so happy for her friend she decided she would suffocate before she made any noise that might interrupt the pair. She held very still, hugging the stone wall, hiding in a shadow. The kiss went on forever. The warden buried his large hands inside Cassandra's black hair. Her hands rose up to clutch at his breastplate and pull him closer.

And then Evelyn almost died.

Someone emerged from inside Cassandra's room. This _new_ man pulled Cassandra away from Loghain's kiss and into one of his own. Evelyn had to bite her knuckles to stop herself from gasping in shock. Cassandra kissed the other man just as passionately as she had applied herself to Loghain. The new man was lean and also in warden gear. Evelyn had seen him with the other wardens before, but she didn't know who he was. His long dark hair was pulled back, a single careless strand falling across a face that was carved with the features of Ferelden nobility. When they came up for air, they both looked at Loghain. Evelyn saw the corner of Loghain's mouth turn up into a cocky grin before he pushed the couple inside the room and then disappeared after them, slamming shut the door.

At this point, Evelyn had to admit to herself that the only reason she wanted to get to the tavern to reclaim her things now was so that she could start drawing scenes involving wardens and a king who had once been a warden. As if the Templars weren't enough to set her smalls on fire, these wardens would be the death of her. She wondered if Cullen would mind getting accosted again tonight...

When she finally entered the Herald's Rest, she saw Bull immediately. She gave him her best disapproving scowl and made to approach him, but he held both his hands up in a silent gesture of innocence, then pointed with one finger upstairs.

 _Shit!_

She took the steps two at a time and rounded the bend, nearly shoving down a poor patron who had the nerve to be in the way of her panic. She skidded to a stop right in front of Sera who was standing outside her corner alcove looking smug, her arms laden with Evelyn's smut and Bull's letter stacked right on top.

 _Well, Shit._

Sera started. "All I'm gonna say first off, is _blaaaaaaaahhhhh_." The elf's face contorted in disgust and she stuck out her tongue while making a mock retching sound. When she was finished pretending to vomit at the sight of, or perhaps even the mere suggestion of, so much naked male flesh, she composed herself and continued. "Second off, we all know your Cully Wully's too uppity to think this here is just fine and dandy, so I'm expecting a favor in exchange for these." Sera waved the papers around. Evelyn reached out to try and snatch them, but the damn elf was too quick, easily pulling them back.

"And the favor is?" Evelyn bit her tongue on a curse.

Sera stepped close enough that only the two of them would hear what she said next. "Alright, look. I'm only gonna say this once, yeah. Just. Once. Then it's never gonna get said again, right? Say 'right'."

"Right." Evelyn would have said anything if it ended this nonsense.

Sera looked around furtively and then said, "Krem." Then she shoved the papers at Evelyn and turned to go back in her cubby hole.

 _What?_

"Wait! Sera! What?"

Sera didn't turn around. "Once!" She shouted.

 _Krem?_

"But, Krem..."

"I said, ONCE, you big perv, now do I go find Commander Poncy Priggy Pants or what?"

Evelyn just took her things and bolted, deciding she didn't need told twice.

She made her way back to their quarters wearily. She wanted to sketch. She also wanted to jump Cullen and tear his clothes off, but the day had worn on her more than she anticipated. Their room was dark and empty when she entered, Cullen likely still with Alistair. She lit a few candles and decided to draw at her desk and wait for Cullen rather than fall asleep alone.

She immediately set to work on the Queen's request. Always best not to keep a monarch waiting. Exactly as ordered by his apparently dirty-minded wife, Evelyn drew the Templar turned Warden turned King, _the veritable trifecta of sex appeal_ , sitting upon his throne, the flanking Mabari sigil of house Theirin on a crest above his crowned head.

Evelyn took time embellishing the scenery. She bashfully avoided committing to any detailed depiction of Alistair's c _rown jewels._ Before long, the candles burned down, her energy burning down along with them. She fell asleep with her face resting on Alistair, drooling on a likeness of his bare chest.

Evelyn dreamed.

...

 _She was sitting on her own throne. It was dead of night and dark with only dim moonlight illuminating the main hall. It was silent but for the soft and wanton moans escaping her own lips. There was someone next to her, cradling her in strong arms coming around her from behind where she sat. One warm hand roamed over her breasts which were bared to the air, her tunic parted and hanging off her shoulders. Another hand caressed at her throat alternating light touches and firm squeezes making her gasp for breath when she was released. Heated words spilled over the lobe of her ear._

 _"Tell him what you want, love."_

 _The voice belonged to Cullen. The hands and the scent and the presence. All Cullen. Of course it was Cullen, but what had he asked her to do? Tell who, what?_

 _Her dream-self opened her eyes and looked down. The sight made her roll her eyes back up into her head, shutting them tight against the utter improbability of what she saw._

 _The King of Ferelden smiled up at her from between her bare legs before he dove face first into her bare sex._

 _"No." Cullen ordered low and sultry against her ear. "Watch him."_

 _Damn him, she obeyed, wrenching her lust heavy eyes open to gaze upon Alistair humming into her, suckling at her and, Maker Above!, the sounds of him, the sight of him, the feeling of him, all felt too real to be a dream though she knew it was. She embraced it, letting herself go. She was determined to stay in the Fade with these two gorgeous men until she found her peak if she had to bargain with a demon to do it._

 _She let herself moan loudly at Alistair's attentions. It was a dream, who cared if anyone heard her? It was the right response apparently, because dream-Cullen growled his approval._

 _"Yes." He said, the hand at her throat tilting her chin up for a kiss. He held her there, devouring her mouth as Alistair devoured her from below. When Cullen pulled away to allow her breath, he gave her another order. "Say his name. Tell him what you want."_

 _"Alistair please," she pleaded sweetly, never taking her eyes from Cullen, "please let me come."_

 _"Good girl." Cullen praised her as Alistair set to the task of inflaming her to the point of combustion. "Look at me and say his name when you come."_

 _It didn't take long. This was the greatest dream ever. She felt the fire build at her core, Cullen's eyes burned into hers, she was so close, almost there, sweet Maker..._

 _"Alistair..." She moaned, "Oh, Alistair..."_

 _..._

"Alistair!" Evelyn shouted out loud from half-sleep and she woke with a start, hot and sweating, an almost-orgasm tingling between her legs. Her dream-fogged eyes snapped up and saw... _Fuck!_

Cullen loomed over her, eyes enraged, voice full of thunder, "WHAT?!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"What? No! Wait! Cullen!" Evelyn literally hurdled the desk and crashed against Cullen's chest. Papers scattered and flew all around them, disturbed by her rush of movement. She had creases on her forehead from resting face down. Her hair was loose and tangled and she looked both aroused and stricken.

When Cullen entered their bedroom not moments ago, he found her asleep at her desk. It was obvious her dreams were of an erotic nature. She was flushed in the dim candle light and the soft little moans escaping her stirred him to attention. He had thought to wake her and make whatever it was she was dreaming about reality, but she startled herself out of the Fade and it appeared she had _not_ been dreaming of him.

The initial shock of hearing another man's name come from his beloved's lips was slow to pass, so Cullen just stood with his fists clenched at his sides while Evelyn flung herself at his breastplate. He was surprised to say the least, with a healthy dose of possessive anger, but he would wait to hear what she had to say. The fact that she had been acting nothing but incriminating for several days now and then _this_ , didn't exactly bode well for her, but as bad as everything seemed, Cullen knew in his heart that he trusted her.

 _But this explanation better be good..._

"Start talking Evelyn." He ordered in a clipped voice while glaring down at her.

"Cassandra! It's Cassandra's fault!" She sputtered out.

"You're blaming your wet dream about the King of Ferelden on Cassandra?"

"No!...Yes!...No!...I mean, it wasn't about Alistair, it was about you...and...Alistair..." Her face scrunched up sheepishly at the admission.

He wasn't about to let her off with that weak story. "MmHm. Keep going." He said.

And then it all came out in one continuous torrent. "Cassandra! She's hopelessly addicted. And so am I, I suppose. But we all are. All the girls, I mean. And maybe Dorian. And Bull, probably. To the, _you know_ , the _romance stories_ she reads. _We_ read. Or whatever she tries to call it. But it's _smut_ , Cullen. And it's _very exciting,_ sometimes! The stories. It's all in good fun. And we were just joking one day that there should be more pictures of the characters. And I mentioned, _in jest mind you_ , that I could draw them for us. But somehow, that turned into talking about people. Not just characters. Real people. Here. Out there. But not just any people. Men. Of course. And then someone said, 'Wouldn't it be fun if we had one for every month of the year.' And we all laughed and agreed and then some of the girls had requests and then Dorian wanted Ser Rylen, and Varric blackmailed me, then Bull AND Sera did too. And then the Queen, she asked for her husband! Of all things! So I drew him and then I fell asleep, and I dreamt of _you_ , Cullen, and him too, but mostly you...kind of, together...with me...at the same time. Not at the ' _same time'_ same time, but, you know..."

She finally took a breath and looked up at him with giant nervous eyes, her hands resting against his armor, waiting for his reply to that totally unintelligible diatribe. Fortunately for her, he was well versed in the dialect of her ridiculous ranting.

"So what you're telling me is that you were aroused by erotic stories and decided to draw erotic pictures, which somehow led to you fantasizing about fucking your fiancé and the King of Ferelden at the same time?"

She bit her lower lip and cast her eyes downward. "I said it wasn't at the _'same time'_ same time! But yes. I suppose."

Cullen removed her hands from his chest and reached down to pick up a handful of the papers scattered about the floor. She let out some kind of squeaking noise and almost tried to stop him, but when he narrowed his eyes at her, she sighed and backed away.

He looked down at the drawing he held and Ser Rylen looked back at him. It was more of the Knight-Captian than Cullen ever needed to see. He glanced up at Evelyn who was now hiding her face behind her hands. Cullen grunted in disapproval as he flipped to the next sketch. It was Ser Barris, who was apparently bathing in Lake Calenhad in the middle of the night.

Cullen pursed his lips. Now was probably not the best time to mention that he and the other Templars at Kinloch Hold actually did go night swimming in that lake sometimes, wearing about as much as Ser Barris seemed to be wearing in Evelyn's pornograpy. He looked up at her again and she was peeking tensely back at him from behind her fingers.

He maintained his harsh tone with her. She deserved it. "Have a thing for strapping young Templars?" He said sarcastically.

"You should know." Was her sullen reply.

"What was that?" He thought she was begging for punishment at this point.

"Nothing." She muttered.

He quickly thumbed through the rest of the contraband. He found Warden Loghain. _Not_ _her type_ , he mused, but he couldn't help a bit of curiosity over whose type the salty old warden was. Then, there was Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven. Cullen rolled his eyes. _Typical_. He'd tripped over more than one swooning young Chantry sister in Kirkwall because of that blighter.

The next thing in the pile was a note with a two column list. He skimmed over the names in the first column. At the top was Michel de Chevin. Cullen snorted. _I'm much better looking than him_. When he moved his eyes over to the second column, he almost dropped the paper. He looked to Evelyn. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot, fidgeting with her hands and blushing like she was trying to set herself on fire. He stepped towards her predatorily, his eyes moving up and down her body.

It hadn't occurred to him until just this moment that it was _incredibly hot_ that his sweet Evelyn, who'd been a virgin when he took her for the first time, was entertaining such a naughty past time. Of course, he knew an image of Michel de Chevin on all fours in a Mabari collar couldn't possibly have been her suggestion, but still, just the fact that she was in possession of this list and that her pretty green eyes had read it and that her head had likely swum with the perverse image was enough to make Cullen want to fuck her on top of all her little drawings.

He leaned down to speak in her ear while holding up the list for her to see. "I can only imagine this was The Iron Bull's contribution?"

She inhaled sharply when his breath caressed her cheek. He could almost hear her heartbeat quicken and the proof was in the tiny rapidly fluttering throb at the pulse in her neck. The little vixen was getting worked up over being caught. Now he definitely had to have her, maybe while he made her look at her erotic art.

"How did you know?" She asked breathlessly.

"I know a fair bit about what you find sexually arousing, Evelyn." He couldn't help but lower his head to take a lick of her skin over the pulse that was throbbing for him. She made a low noise in her throat but otherwise kept still. "If I had to guess, you'd prefer to have _your_ leash held before you held Michel's, hmm?"

She definitely whimpered at that, and tilted her neck as an invitation for more attention. Which she wouldn't get. Not yet. So he walked away and resumed his study of her collected works.

When he got to an unfinished rendition of Varric, he felt the need to question, holding up the picture to her and raising one eyebrow. "Really, Evelyn?"

"I told you, he blackmailed me." She whined. "Cullen, please, I..."

He cut her off. "You what? You're sorry? You should be. These men aren't objects for the secret desires of you and your friends. This is a violation Evelyn. What do you think your subjects would say if they knew they were being so objectified, by their leader no less?"

Evelyn remained silent. Cullen just shook his head. He tossed the pile of papers he was holding onto the desk and swiped up the picture of King Alistair that was still sitting atop it. He moved back over to her and held it out, waiting until she looked up at it.

When she did, he spoke. His voice came out an octave lower than he planned, but he was able to keep it from cracking. Her eyes were wide and full of guilty pleasure. He could tell she was surprising even herself that she could still be so turned on even while he was dressing her down. "Tell me what you dreamt."

She shied her eyes away, "Cullen, I can't..."

He lunged and grabbed her roughly by her arm pulling her into him. "Evelyn, you're going to tell me what was in your dream that was invaded by another man's cock and then I'm going to fuck you until you forget him and remember that you're only mine."

She looked up at him, mesmerized. Briefly he wondered if this wasn't the most effective form of discipline when she looked like she wanted nothing more in the world than to be disciplined in the manner he just mentioned. His doubt was only _very_ brief, however, because when she started talking, hearing her voice the sordid details of her dream nearly made him come in his smalls.

"I...it wasn't..." She was still hesitating. A touch of fear. A touch of anxiety. And entirely fucking gorgeous. "It wasn't his _cock_." She whispered the last word and Cullen fought to keep from kissing her dirty little lips. "He was...using his mouth..."

Cullen pulled her closer. "Using his mouth _where_?" He demanded.

"On me..." More bashful hesitation. "On my _cunt_." When she said the word 'cunt' and looked straight in his eyes, he lost it. He tackled her down onto the bed, taking the drawing of Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden naked on his throne with them. He shoved the picture on top of the sheets and then turned Evelyn around and shoved her face into it. In less time than it had ever taken him to do anything, he pulled her pants down over her round bottom and freed his aching length from his own. Then he shoved himself inside her from behind with out wasting another breath on words.

She cried out low, long and hard with a moan so wanton it made him want to sully her in ways he had never envisioned before. When he started pounding forward into her depths, he grabbed a fist full of her hair and made sure she was positioned to look at her handiwork.

"Tell me the rest." He snarled out, never breaking his punishing rhythm. This was, after all, supposed to be punishment.

"YES! Cullen...Yeeeeeessssss!" She cried out. _So much for punishment._

He smacked her behind hard enough to echo off the walls of their bedchamber. "That's not what I asked you to say!"

"Mmmmmmm..." She moaned some more, but then complied. "You were there...holding me...touching me..." Her phrases were broken, every few words punctuated by a hard thrust into her slick heat. "You made me look at him...watch him...ahhhhh..."

She was close, already starting to clench around him. He was close too, thinking about the dream-Cullen ordering her to watch another man pleasure her while he fondled her to his heart's content. Without warning he came, groaning out her name and she desperately grinded her hips back against him until she too came crashing down the other side of her peak.

He collapsed atop her, letting go of her hair and wrapping his arms around her waist. She reached up and crumpled the picture of Alistair in one fist and tossed it across the room. He couldn't help but chuckle. "Good girl." He said, then added more softly in her ear, "Who do you belong to?"

"You Cullen." She said, her voice thick with contentment. "Only you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Cullen?" Evelyn peaked up at him from where she rested on his chest as they both lay sleepy and sated in bed.

"Yes, Love?" He said, closing his eyes again and letting his head fall back upon his pillow.

"Are you angry with me?"

Cullen sighed and sat up. Evelyn removed herself from where she was curled atop him and shifted to sit crossed legged next to him, anticipating his response. She was leaning forward, her hands perched on the bed in front of her. The soft v that her arms made framed her breasts and he was momentarily distracted enough to reach out and fondle the pert little tip of one with his thumb. She exhaled and scooted closer to his idle attentions.

"I'm not angry. To be truthful, all I'm really feeling is a bit annoyed that my coworkers are all tittering females prone to swooning over a pretty face and muscular physique."

"Tittering females and Dorian." She added.

He shrugged. "Eh. I'd expect it from him."

"But you're not angry about me... _thinking_ about another man?"

Cullen stilled his hand that had continued to tweak at her nipple while they spoke. "Maker's Breath, Evelyn, why would I begrudge you that? It was just a dream. And I was even in it. You can _think_ about anyone you damn well please as long as you know your place is ultimately in _my_ bed _with me alone_." He pulled her in for a possessive kiss, just to drive his point home. His fingers resumed their work at her other nipple and she broke the kiss, panting against his lips when he pinched her hard.

"Do you... _ahhh_...think about other women?" She asked innocently enough as she closed her eyes and threw back her head.

This was dangerous territory. Cullen considered his answer carefully. She may look lazy and sex fogged, but he knew she was listening intently, just waiting to turn the tables on him. Sneaky minx. If he said the wrong thing he'd be hearing about it until the seas boiled over and the skies fell.

He looked directly in her eyes, doing his best to smolder and giving her the handsomest smirk he could muster. His smirk did things to her. He knew. Hopefully it would distract her from trying to trap him. "Evelyn, you know you're the only woman for me, now and always. _But_...if you really want to know, I won't deny having fantasized about another woman... _with you_."

Cullen practically heard her heartbeat skip. The smirk he wore went quickly from an affectation to a genuine thing. _Weren't expecting that, were you, my little desire demon?_

"I... _really_? But, why would you...would I...how...?"

He wanted to fuck her beautiful stammering mouth right then and there, but he opted to just lay back down. He laced his fingers behind his head trying not to look smug. She practically jumped up and straddled him, looking down and searching his eyes for truth. She'd find it. It was the truth. Funny how the truth always confused the shit out of her. He couldn't beat her at The Game, but he occasionally managed to one-up her with blunt honesty.

"It's just a fantasy, love, like yours. I wouldn't actually want it to happen. I just wanted to illustrate that no matter what imagery either of us finds exciting, the main attraction is still each other. So, I swear to the Maker Evelyn, if I ever find Sera in this bedroom, I'm going to throw her off the balcony.

Evelyn giggled and buried her face in his neck, nuzzling and kissing. After making love to her once more, this time with her face shoved at Rylen, they both went to sleep.

Cullen was dressed and already gathering up the drawings when Evelyn woke red eyed and still groggy the next morning. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm confiscating your smut. _I_ may not care that you have a dirty hobby, especially since I quite benefited from it last night, but I can't in good conscience let these men be used like this. I won't implicate any of you specifically, don't worry, but I am going to get rid of these and let them all know. I'll apologize on behalf of the 'anonymous guilty party' and then we'll be done with the whole matter. You're lucky these are all men with good hearts and senses of humor. Well, except Warden Loghain, but somehow, I think he's been around the keep enough times to not bat an eye at this. And I'm not telling Prince Sebastian. Mostly because I just don't like him."

Evelyn sat up and had 'protest' written all over her face, but Cullen silenced her with a held up hand just as her mouth opened. "I don't want to hear it Evelyn. You acted like a child so now I'm going to treat you like one."

He walked back over to the bed and looked down at her. "Don't think I didn't notice _I'm_ not in this pile," He he held up her sketches. "...the one person you should have been drawing. Now, while I go put a stop to this, you're going to stay in this room to rectify your shocking omission." He went back over to the desk grabbing up some blank parchment and her pencils. He tossed them on the bed at her. "Get going." He then turned to leave but spoke over his shoulder, "Tonight I'm going to take you while you look at me _and_ my likeness."

Cullen didn't bother hiding the bounce in his step, as he left their bedroom hearing a frustrated huff behind him. He stuffed the pictures inside his coat. The moment Evelyn was out of site, he realized it was going to be a long and trying, not to mention awkward day. But it had to be done. He'd be damned before he ran things in secret around here as the women seemed to be always trying to do. As strange and seemingly innocent as this situation was, it was better to have it out in the open and apologize for it instead of sweeping it under the rug. He thanked the Maker he found out about it before the thing got distributed. There would have been no stopping it then.

His first encounter of a strange day that would get only stranger was with Cassandra. He was doing his dawn patrol around the keep and he passed her in a corridor. Usually at this hour she was already up and in the training yard, the only other person in Skyhold who rose as early as he did. She hadn't even noticed him coming towards her until he said something. He would swear she'd been whistling when he stopped her.

"Seeker. Good Morning." He greeted her.

"Oh! Commander. Yes. It is." She smiled. _Smiled._ And then she walked past him, with the bizarre, and slightly frightening, grin still plastered to her face. He was staring after her when a man brushed past him. He was tall, had long hair, wore warden armor and sported a longbow slung across his back. He was about to stop the man to question him. There were no guest quarters in this wing so he imagined the visitor was lost. He was just about to say something when the man hurried to catch up to Cassandra. Just as the two reached an intersection, he patted her on her behind. Cullen almost reached for his sword, expecting the Seeker to do the same, but she did _absolutely nothing_. They each took an opposite direction without saying a word to each other and Cullen would swear she was still smiling when she rounded the bend.

He stood there with his jaw slack until someone else passed him.

"Commander."

Cullen turned at the brusque greeting to see Warden Loghain coming from the same general direction as Cassandra and the other man had come from...the direction of... _no!_... _no?...really?!..._ the direction of the Seeker's bedroom. Loghain said nothing else and disappeared around the corner Cassandra had taken.

 _Well!_ At least that answered the question of who requested Loghain. Cullen decided there was no need to inform the Warden of _his_ picture. Typically, Cullen assumed Leliana was behind every plot, scheme, random occurrence and strange happenstance both within and without Skyhold, but now he actually believed Evelyn's assertion that Cassandra had been the ring leader in this endeavor. He reminded himself to never underestimate any woman's dedication to 'romance'. Cassandra's over-achieving devotion apparently extended in all directions.

He was still somewhat bemused when he walked into his office to find Rylen and Barris already waiting for him for their daily meeting. "Ah. Gentleman." Cullen said, assuming a serious tone and expression. "Before we start, there's something I need to discuss with you both." He moved to stand behind his desk and met the other men's eyes. He cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. _This was going to be much more uncomfortable than he envisioned._

 _"Uhhhh..."_ He continued, clearly stalling as the men listened, patiently waiting for him to get to the point. "There's no easy way to say this, so it's best just to be out with it. It seems that lately the...um...ladies of the keep... have had a bit too much free time. And idle hands being a demon's workshop and all...well, their imaginations started running wild. They've taken a shine to creating some... _questionable art_...featuring the two of you, among others..." Cullen's speech drifted off as he reached into his coat to show them what he meant rather than have to actually put words to it, but he stopped when the Templars stared at each other and slow smiles spread across their faces.

 _What was with all the smiling this morning?_

Rylen's eyes lit up. _Lit up_. He asked eagerly, "Is that them? Can we see?" He reached out his hand and Cullen, though shocked, pulled out the drawings and handed them over.

Rylen grabbed them up with boyish zeal and Barris practically tripped over himself to look over the other man's shoulder at them. Barris mumbled, "I've been dying to see..."

"I know..." Rylen agreed and chuckled. "Who asked for you then?"

Barris straightened and said proudly, "Lady Montilyet. You?"

"Lucky man. Lysette. And that mage from Tevinter, I heard. Not for me, but I'm flattered nonetheless."

For the second time today Cullen was slack jawed. "You mean the two of you knew?"

"Heheh." Rylen laughed again, "Knew, Commander? We've been taking bets on who would make it in to the final product. Only twelve months in the year you know. And we've heard about so many requests, we were starting to get worried, but since you have them here, we _must_ be in!" With that Rylen found what he was looking for and plucked out the nude drawing of himself flanked by flames. He tossed the rest of the pile at Barris who pulled his own picture out and whistled in approval. Barris handed the rest back to Cullen.

"Did they do you yet, Commander? No way the Inquisitor wouldn't make sure you got in..." But Cullen didn't even hear which one of the strutting peacocks in his office asked that question because he had already taken back the sketches and started walking out of the room, shaking his head.

He wandered back down to the courtyard. His morning routines felt entirely disrupted. He liked things to have a certain order, a certain regularity and clarity of purpose. Even if the likes of Leliana and Josephine, and Evelyn too on occasion, were slightly more entropic than he preferred, he had always had companions like Cassandra, Rylen and Barris who fell right into place. Steadfast. Predictable. But, unbeknownst to Cullen all this time, Cassandra had been entertaining fantasies of threesomes, and his two most dedicated captains were happily betting on which one of them was viewed more as a sex object. He wondered how they had ever managed to win a war.

Cullen quickened his pace and barely mumbled a greeting while averting his eyes as he passed Michel de Chevin on the steps, trying to push aside unbidden thoughts of the man in bondage. He _definitely_ wasn't going to tell him about this either. When he entered the main hall, he noticed Varric and Josephine were exchanging heated words. Unfortunately, dozens of other prying ears seemed to notice it as well, though they were all trying to be nonchalant about it.

"Listen, Ruffles, a contract is a contract. I get thirty. If you're interested in renegotiation, we can schedule a meeting." Varric waved his arm dismissively at the Ambassador. Cullen's chest tightened and he almost shouted out a warning to the dwarf. _That was the wrong thing to do!_

Josephine's eyes went wide, then she clenched her jaw and spoke through bared teeth, at least making some attempt at keeping her voice down. "Now you listen to me, you little..."

Varric interrupted her epithet. "Ah, ah, ah, Ambassador Ruffles...wouldn't want people to see you sweat, now would you?" The dwarf gestured around the hall at the various guests and nobility all trying not to be so obvious about listening to the argument.

Josephine looked around, smoothed out her skirts, took a deep breath and addressed Varric again. This time her voice was calm, but her eyes still spewed venom at him. "Now you listen to me _dwarf_. Any negotiations made under duress are _null and void_. You blackmailed her. And you know very well you don't have one fiber of a contract to lean on. Thirty percent is _extortion_. And we won't stand for it. You get ten. End. Of. Discussion."

Varric just leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Perhaps thirty was a bit of a stretch. But at ten I'm practically giving away my services for a song! You need my distribution list, sweetheart. With my reader base flocking to pick up this 'special' art release, our profits will go through the roof. That has to get me at least twenty-five."

Cullen decided he was done listening to Josephine and Varric trying to out-cheat each other so he stepped forward and interjected himself into the conversation. "I sincerely hope the two of you aren't discussing plans to publish pornography in the name of the Inquisition, because I'm afraid I can't let that happen on my watch." He hadn't quite gotten the response he expected from Rylen and Barris, but their adolescent infatuation with this ridiculousness was no reason to allow it to continue.

"Uh...come again, Curly?" Varric put on a show of ignorance.

"Ugh! She told you!" Josephine threw her hands up in exasperation. But in the next instant, her expression changed and she turned her diplomatic wiles against him. Cullen started getting nervous. He fleetingly thought he should go before he found himself in a position to streak Skyhold again. All he needed was for that image to end up in the calendar.

"Listen, Commander." Josephine purred. "I'm sure Evelyn told you only the barest of details. Allow me to explain fully. You see, I can assure you that no one involved in this is an unwilling party. That being said, there's nothing to be ashamed about. This is simply an artistic endeavor, to be appreciated by a select and tasteful few. And, might I add, potentially quite a lucrative venture for the Inquisition." She turned a sideways sneer at Varric. "If certain parties can be convinced to be reasonable."

"I'm really quite shocked, Ambassador." Cullen decided he wasn't going to back down. She could sweet talk him out of his smalls again and he still wasn't going to allow this 'venture' to come to press. "How can you be in support of this? What does this say about the seriousness of our organization? You know even better than I do how gossip spreads. Your 'select few' is going to turn into half of Thedas in less time than it takes to gawk at one of these drawings and then the Inquisition loses all respect. You cannot possibly justify this in any way." Cullen wanted to pat himself on the back. He thought that argument sounded iron clad. He looked down his nose at the petite Antivan, daring her to make her next move.

She stared right back up at him with a look of challenge in her eyes. "Commander." She started. His title had never sounded more condescending. "If you had any mind for the subtleties of anything but battle, or even if you paid attention when we were discussing things besides the army, you would know that diversions such as these are not only perfectly acceptable in polite society, but highly sought after. Quality is always hard to come by."

"Too true, Ruffles. Too true." Varric nodded his head. Cullen glared at him.

"Do you know how many reservations we have to purchase the final product, Commander?" Josephine perched a hand on her hip and the look of almost-triumph she gave him was reminiscent enough to make him shiver. "Even if we only charge a modest, but competitive, fee for our calendar, the proceeds would be enough to outfit your men in the Western Approach in fine style with as much steel and leather as you please."

"I should write that down..." Varric mumbled as he searched for a writing implement. "...'Men of Griffon Wing Keep: Steel and Leather Edition'..."

"Or if not supplying our fighting men and women, the funds could certainly be used for other things. We could finally refurbish all of Skyhold, with all of the special reinforcements I know you've been drawing up plans for."

Varric found a quill. "...'Skyhold Special: The Men Who Wield the Swords'..."

"Or if not Skyhold, perhaps a cause more dear to all our hearts. Rebuilding efforts at Haven could be complete in a matter of weeks. With the kind of coin we're talking about I could buy enough construction crews and materials to build the place up grander than Denerim." Then she added under her breath. "Not that that would be so hard..."

"...'Haven's Heartbreakers: Ferelden's Boys Next Door'..."

"Enough, Varric!" Cullen shouted. He was losing ground. The damn Antivan had him again. Even with their far reach, notoriety and massive support, the Inquisition was always still trying to find enough resources to help all who needed assistance and make sure they stayed running in top form.

A tiny demon started whispering in Cullen's ear. And it had an Antivan accent. _Would you deny your men much needed supplies in exchange for something so trivial? Would you risk the safety of your home,_ your soon to be wife _, for something so meaningless? Would you deny charity to those in need when truly no one else seemed to be objecting?_

Cullen closed his eyes and hung his head. He was torn between moral obligation and practical necessity. He lifted his arm to rub the back of his neck. The nervous gesture was another misstep on his part, sealing his fate. He might as well just strip right down to nothing again and give everyone a daylight view of another stunning loss to the wily Josephine. The movement shifted his coat and the pages he had carelessly stuffed inside it jostled, announcing their presence.

"Oh!" Josephine exclaimed. "Is this them? It looks like there are new ones! Let me see!" She practically growled out the demand and lunged at him. She started pulling at his coat and digging inside it trying to reach for Evelyn's sketches while he tried in vain to beat her hands back from groping at him.

"Rrgh! I _hate_ this coat!" She growled again as they played out an embarrassing little game of 'hands off'. Not wanting to be too rough, of course, Cullen gave in and Josephine won, ripping the drawings out of his possession. She slammed them down on the table and started eating them up with her eyes. Varric also started looking through the stack.

"Ooooohoooooo!" Josephine squealed and she studied each slip of parchment. If there was anyone left in the hall who was oblivious to what was going on, her excited noise certainly made sure to correct that.

"Hey!" Varric cried out, sounding offended at something. He had a picture in each hand and he was looking back and forth intently between them; one was his own likeness and the other was that of Warden-Stud Loghain. "She gave him better chest hair than me!"

Cullen smacked his head with the palm of his hand. He turned away slowly and without notice, Josephine and Varric having already forgotten his presence. With heavy steps, laden with disbelief and defeat, he walked to go back outside, hoping the chill mountain air would help calm his increasingly frayed nerves. But he clearly wasn't meant to have respite today because Dorian intercepted him.

"Let's talk, shall we my dear Commander?" Cullen allowed the mage to slide their arms into a link and lead him away, too weakened to protest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dorian led him all the way up to the highest tower of the battlements. Cullen only partially cared about the strange looks the two of them received as they walked arm in arm. Dorian was alight with his usual sparkle. Cullen looked like someone had just kicked his favorite Mabari puppy.

The mage leaned casually against the outer wall as Cullen slumped forward onto it contemplating how long it would take one to reach the snow banks below if one decided to jump.

"It's far too early in the day to be looking so tired and defeated, Commander. And while I do find you more attractive when you're agitated, I would be remiss as a friend if I simply ogled and didn't ask after your well-being. So, since I _am_ such an excellent friend, care to share?"

Cullen straightened and glared. "Let's not pretend you don't know what's going on here and why I would object to such base frivolity."

Dorian had the good sense not to play games. But his good sense didn't extend so far as to spare Cullen more talking.

"'Base', Commander?" He replied with mock indignation. Or perhaps it was real indignation. Dorian was nothing if not totally serious about his own magnificently inflated self-image. "Nothing about me has ever been or could ever be construed as 'base'. Everything pertaining to me is tasteful and _special_. I'll have you remember that before this conversation goes any further."

"A lame nug could be considered ' _special_ '. Do you want to be compared to a lame nug?" Cullen challenged somewhat immaturely. He was still feeling confrontational, clearly.

"I'm going to ignore your goading because our Evelyn loves you." Dorian waved away Cullen's comment. "I don't know what possessed you to enter into a verbal sparring match with Josephine. I could have told you that would end badly for you as it always does. I, however, am much more magnanimous than our fiery Antivan Ambassador, so I'm going to explain to you why you're fighting against the tide here in ways your honor driven Knight-of-Andraste sensibilities can comprehend. And then I'll make you feel all better about just letting said tide wash over every beautiful inch of you, yes?"

"Do I have a choice?" The Commander grumbled.

"You don't. Good boy for seeing that. Now, think back to when we were at the Winter Palace."

"I'd rather not." Cullen really didn't need this kind of friendship today.

Dorian ignored his complaint. "Do you recall those delicious nuts with the Tevinter spice that Evelyn and I made you try?"

"I recall Evelyn putting one in my mouth and then I recall begging Madame Vivenne to cast an ice spell on my throat to make the pain go away." Sadly, the vomiting that little morsel induced hadn't even been the low point of the evening for Cullen. He couldn't say where Dorian was going with this unpleasant reminiscing but, obviously not having a choice in the matter, he let his 'friend' continue.

"I used to love those nuts back home. They're a delicacy, you know. The burn is the best part. It's a subtle thing that starts as a low smolder and then erupts quite unexpectedly into a raging inferno in your mouth."

Cullen looked back at Dorian dubiously. "Every time the two of you came by you were looking for water in what I assumed to be an effort to reverse that raging inferno."

"Yes, but do you also remember that after we found water we went right back to the bowl of nuts?

"Is there a point to this Dorian?" Cullen looked down at the snow banks again, wondering if they didn't start to look more inviting.

"You see, it's rare to encounter something that deliciously spicy. Each time you experience it you worry perhaps the intensity is too much to bear, but then once you've allowed it to consume you and the intensity runs its course, you can't help but want to experience it all over again."

Cullen stared at him blankly, clearly not following.

Dorian huffed and rolled his eyes. "The point, my dear Commander, is that _you_ are so much spicier than those nuts."

"I very much _do not_ want to be a raging inferno inside your mouth, Dorian."

"Not just _you_ , you daft man!" Dorian appeared upset by Cullen's glib response. "I'm speaking of all the lovely boys the lovely ladies, _and me_ , of Skyhold are enamored with. What I'm trying to say is that appreciation of a fine male form is something to be celebrated and _devoured_ at every opportunity." Then he added with a dangerous edge, " _So stop ruining the fun_."

Despite the fact that his arguments had fallen on deaf ears with Josephine, Cullen felt the need to continue defending his position. "But..."

"Stop." Dorian held up his hand.

He tried again. "You..."

"No."

"I..."

"Listen to me, Cullen." The mage said, interrupting him for the third time. "You have a beautiful woman you love who fantasizes about _you_. So what if she wants to help her little friends, and a few others, fantasize about who they might love, or simply admire? As I said. Spicy nuts, old boy, spicy nuts."

Cullen paused. Spicy nuts aside, he did love Evelyn. And it was endearing, _and arousing_ , that she required his presence in both her reality and her fantasy. The thought made him happy. And so it logically followed. Who was he to prevent others from being happy?

Dorian must have seen the tentative acceptance on Cullen's face. "Now there's a good Commander." He remarked condescendingly, his lips spreading into a wide and lascivious grin. "I'll just let all parties know we're fine here then. And perhaps inform Varric he should double the number he's considering for release." Dorian patted him on the shoulder as he walked away leaving him alone on the battlements.

Cullen stood there for quite some time, looking out at the snowcapped mountains and breathing in the crisp air. This was not the first time the lovely ladies, _and Dorian_ , of Skyhold had bested him, nor did he think it would be the last. Despite his stubborn streak he considered surrender was the better part of valor. And then a curious little idea crossed his mind. A devious idea. A self-serving one.

If he couldn't beat them, he would join them.

He strode down to his office with renewed purpose. He cancelled the rest of his meetings for the day, settled down at his desk and set to work. It had been years since he'd done anything like this. It had been a fleeting hobby in his youth pushed aside by the more exciting endeavors of his training. But if nothing else the Chantry had been thorough in its education, teaching the devout many different ways to glorify the Maker.

He wasn't exactly crafting a likeness of Andraste, however. He was surprised how easily the movements of pencil and paper in hand came back to him. Before he knew it, on the blank page in front of him, he had sketched out his own fantasy image. He couldn't help a smile at the finished product. But there was still work to be done. This wouldn't necessarily have been the first thing on his mind about how to pass his time today, but if his beloved Evelyn wanted spicy nuts that's what she would get.

Cullen folded the parchment neatly and found an envelope to seal it in. Conveniently, a soldier knocked at his door at just that moment. The man set some reports on his desk and with a nod and a salute he turned to leave but Cullen stopped him.

"Jim, take this to the Inquisitor, please. It's very important, and for her eyes only. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Right away Commander."

Cullen watched Jim leave with the envelope, then climbed up to his loft to gather everything he would need.

xxxx

Evelyn remained in their bedchamber for a little while that morning trying to do as she had been instructed but she simply couldn't decide how she wanted to depict Cullen in a drawing. Everything she tried seemed inadequate when compared to the real thing. She felt like she wasn't getting his smirk quite right, or the exact angle of the scar on his lip. The spark of passion behind his eyes eluded her and the way she drew the firm set of his jaw didn't do him justice.

She eventually wandered from their quarters in search of inspiration. Pencils and parchment in hand, she passed through the main hall to find Josephine and Varric having an animated argument. When they saw her they both shouted out.

"This dwarf is fired, Inquisitor!" Josephine said with a snarl.

"You gave me inferior chest hair!" Varric accused.

Evelyn ran past, ignoring them.

She retreated to the garden to find Dorian lounging on a bench. She sat down next to him.

"I've just had a chat with Cullen." He said casually.

"About?" Evelyn asked with the best pretended innocence she could muster.

Dorian just scoffed at her attempt and continued. "I've brought our man around to our way of thinking as only I could have done. I'll add it to the list of favors I'm owed by the two of you."

Evelyn smiled, a little relieved. "Thank you, Dorian. I was a bit worried Leliana was going to threaten him into submission."

"Actually Josephine softened him up nicely for me before I got to him. Quite helpful actually. He was more pliant than I expected."

"That sounds dirty."

"I know."

"How did you convince him?"

"Spicy nuts."

"Mm." Evelyn nodded her head. "Clever of you. Hard to deny the logic of that analogy."

"Well, I am very clever. And handsome."

"And modest."

"I know." Dorian glanced down at Evelyn's stack of blank parchment. "You should draw him in his formal uniform. The gods know he's the only one who looked good in that dreadful thing. Perhaps open in the front, trousers undone just enough to _suggest_..." The mage licked his lips.

"I'll consider it." Evelyn said.

"Or perhaps those Avvarian leathers you picked up for him. Has he worn those yet?"

"Not yet." Evelyn blushed. She had already thought of that herself.

"Anything but that ghastly cloak he favors." Dorian's lip curled in disgust.

Evelyn looked affronted. "I love him in that!"

"He's fortunate his pretty face distracts from the tragedy of it. It's awful. I would have thought you'd have better taste."

"To each, her own."

"Indeed." Dorian stretched, as graceful as a cat, and then rose. "I'll leave you to it, my dear. I believe I've provided you with enough inspiration. Remember though, you're supposed to be drawing _Cullen_ , not me." Dorian winked at her then walked away.

Evelyn wiled away several hours on the bench in the garden, diligent in her task. First she took Dorian's suggestion and drew Cullen in his dress uniform. Well, not so much _in_ it as coming out of it. The jacket that he had complained was too tight was fully unbuttoned and hanging from his shoulders, baring his chest and the ripples of his abdomen. Also as Dorian suggested, she made the trousers undone, revealing just the tops of his slender hips and only the very beginnings of the dark blond curls above his manhood. She thought maybe this might be a good entry for the month of Firstfall.

When she was moderately satisfied with that depiction, she started on another, this one to spite Dorian. She drew Cullen on her throne in the great hall wearing nothing but his red cloak. The fur framed his proud face and his broadsword lay across his lap hiding his other pride. _Looking at this would be the perfect way to spend every day of the month of Guardian_ , she thought. She smiled widely at this rendition and admired it for a few long moments before she set that too aside and began yet another. She was nothing if not thorough in her appreciation of her man.

Since he hadn't yet worn the Avvarian garb she acquired for him on a whim and at Dorian's urging, she had to guess at how he would look in it. Not that there was much of it. Skin tight supple leather hugging all the right places, she positioned him with his back to the viewer looking over his shoulder. She gave herself a bit of artistic license as well, giving him long hair done up in braids. This image was a perfect Cloudreach if ever there was one but she would still ask the ladies their opinion on it later.

She was about to start on another when she was interrupted by a messenger calling out to her.

"Yes." She acknowledged with just a little irritation at being interrupted. She hid the drawings behind her to be safe as she looked up at the man bearing an envelope.

It was Jim. _Fucking Jim!_

Heat rose up in her cheeks as she hastily swiped the letter away from him.

"From the Commander, Your Worship. For your eyes only he said." With a nod of his head, Jim left her.

Evelyn tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. But it wasn't a letter. It was a drawing. It was so well done she was envious. The likenesses were captured exactly. She stared down at the picture in her lap. When she realized exactly what she was looking at she gasped. Her hand went to her mouth in shock. Had _Cullen_ drawn this for her? Was this _his_ fantasy?

She had to find out. _Now_. She snatched up all the drawings, Cullen's included, and ran in search of him.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So very much NSFW. Enjoy_

 **Chapter 8**

Evelyn nearly tripped over her own feet running headlong towards the Chantry. Correction. She actually did trip over her own feet and fell down spectacularly face first in the middle of the garden. She was usually more graceful than that, but she was trying to hold onto the sketches and not let them scatter about Skyhold for just anyone to grab up. Cullen would murder her if his drawing got out and Josephine would murder her if people got ahold of any calendar pictures without paying for them first.

More than a few heads turned at the Inquisitor picking herself up from the dirt clutching at a stack of parchment and dusting soil off her knees. She did her best to act aloof under the scrutiny of the random nobles lounging about. She held her head up high and proceeded to walk as calmly as possible to the large door of the Chantry. She was better than this. She didn't need to _run_ towards sex. It wasn't going anywhere. She shouldn't appear too eager. Not that anyone would have guessed she was racing to defile the Chantry with her not-yet-husband, but still. She was a Lady. A Lady with pornography tucked up under her arm, who was about to get ravished inside a solemn place of prayer and contemplation.

Well, there _would_ be contemplation. She'd be contemplating the fastest way to get out of her clothes. And there _would_ be prayer. She'd be praying for Cullen to bring her to climax quickly. The Maker really couldn't ask for more devotion than that.

When she arrived at her destination, she looked around assuring no one was paying too close attention to her actions and then she tried the knob. The door was locked.

She grumbled something about overly cautious ex-Templars as she dug a lock pick out of her boot. She picked the lock with her typical alacrity and with just one more glance over her shoulder she cracked the huge door open and slipped inside.

She blinked furiously trying to adjust her eyes to the dimness. The delicate scent of incense wafted in the air and the low murmurs of the Chant of Light carried to her ears. The image that filled her vision, however, was no ' _ex'_ -Templar.

Cullen knelt on one knee leaning against a broadsword. A Templar broadsword. It matched the armor he wore. Templar armor. Evelyn let the door fall shut behind her with a soft thud. At the sound of it, the Templar before her rose to his feet and turned to face her. He rested the large sword against the alter that sat beneath Andraste's statue.

If it was even possible, the imposing figure of Cullen had become infinitely more so. His broad shoulders were massive, adorned in plate metal pauldrons. His chest was a wall of steel intimidation, the flaming sword of the Order proudly emblazoned upon it. Draped around his legs were the familiar charcoal and crimson swaths of cloth hiding a chainmail skirt. Evelyn was no mage, but she imagined if there were any magic in her it would have fled at the sight of twenty stone worth of man and metal.

Maybe it was because she loved him. Maybe it was because she had simply never seen him like this, but she thought that in the history of the Order, no Templar had ever, or could ever, look _this_ _good._

Apparently Evelyn had stood long enough with her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open because Cullen eventually interrupted her gawking. But it didn't sound like _Cullen_ when he spoke. Cullen always sounded 'commanding' for lack of a better term. He could hardly sound gentle while trying to lead an army, but when he addressed her like this, wearing the uniform of a life he had left behind, he sounded almost _cold._ And it sent a shiver through her that paradoxically set her loins on fire.

"You claim to favor Templars, Inquisitor." He started stepping towards her, armor clicking, skirts shifting, voice dangerous. "It's time you met a _real_ one."

And then faster than a man so huge should move, he was on her. One gauntleted hand shot out. He grabbed her under her chin, fingers splayed across her neck, and pulled her up and in, onto his lips and assaulted her with such single-minded determination she wondered if _real_ Templars weren't taught how to kiss as part of their training.

The drawings fluttered down to the floor. Her arms fell limp at her sides even as she rose up onto her toes to better accommodate his forceful mouth. His kiss was all consuming. It robbed her of will, of thought, of purpose. Her mind swam, her senses reeled, bombarded by the tight grip of metal holding her face to his and the blazing heat of his lips and his tongue enforcing their desires upon her.

Not that she wasn't blazing with her own desire. She'd never been so aroused by a fully clothed and armored Cullen before. But she could hardly even think of this knight as her Cullen. This was some strange and powerful warrior of Andraste, intent on conquering The Lady's Herald.

When finally he pulled away and his hand fell from her neck, she stumbled forward at the loss of his touch. She wasn't left wanting, though, Maker bless her Templar, for he roughly pulled her by her arm and nearly dragged her to stand before the altar.

Andraste looked down on them with a placid, if distant, expression. Not an admonition for their actions, but not quite an endorsement.

"Down." The Knight-Commander ordered.

That word could have meant countless things, any number of actions or behaviors. In this moment, however, it only had one meaning to Evelyn. She'd already been partially educated as to her purpose here. One of the many carelessly discarded drawings littering the Chantry floor, drawn in a heavier hand than hers, depicted exactly the role she'd be playing in this particular fantasy.

First, she fell _down_ to her knees, gingerly resting them on the cold flagstones. Then there was a bow _down_ of her head as she ducked under skirts and mail. She was practically panting out eager breaths now. So much for being a Lady. The thick ties of her Knight's leather trousers came _down_ next and, with a well-practiced tug, his thick and heavy cock fell out of its confines before her. And _down_ she went.

Her lips couldn't get there fast enough, her mouth couldn't swallow him swiftly enough and her tongue couldn't taste him quickly enough. She was a mess of desperate action. _Holy Maker_ , did she need him inside her, some part of her, any part of her, more than she'd needed anything ever. And she said that a lot when it came to him, and when it came to coming.

In contrast to her fervent hunger, Cullen stood like stone, unmoving and silent. That is until she found her purpose. When finally she closed around his length and settled her hands against his thighs, he took over again. One steel-covered hand came to rest at the back of her head, holding her in place against the coarse curls at the base of his shaft and the other hand found its way beneath her chin again, his thumb pushing down on it, forcing her to open wider.

Then he started pulling. Not thrusting. _Pulling_. His body remained rigidly still, while he pulled her head and face onto him in deep tortuous strokes. Her mind was spinning again. She breathed heavily through her nose, trying to focus on the air moving in and out of her lungs, but all she could smell and taste was the incense and the maleness being shoved into her face over and over again. She thought she cried out, a whine of both satisfaction and denial as she fought to cope with what he was giving her and at the same time wanting _so much more of it._

If her cry had been a voiced complaint, not even Andraste heard it from her vantage point above them, over the cry Cullen let out, if it could be called that. A base growl rumbled deep in his throat, long and unbroken as he continued his motions. The sound was raw and zealous and angry and elated all at once.

He fucked her face harder, with urgency now, his stoic reserves faltering. His cock filled her mouth like there was nowhere else in the world it was meant to be and she reveled in it, her body going as limp as possible, staying as pliant and open as she could, allowing him to take his pleasure from her. He asked so little of her normally, never making demands or pushing anywhere near her limits. She knew there was a darkness inside him he kept in check. So to entrust her with a fantasy such as this, a lewd act in a holy place wearing the trappings that had trapped him for much of his life, made Evelyn want to surrender every bit of herself if it got him off.

It seemed to be working. When his feral growl turned into a bitten out and ragged " _Fuck_ " spoken through clenched teeth, his pace quickened. She was almost having to hold her breath now, so little respite she was being given, but she didn't care. She started getting dizzy, suffocating in sex and metal. She felt him sway. Just a slight shift in the distribution of his weight, but it was enough for her to know he was so very close to his end.

And then he yanked her completely off him, long enough for her to admire the glistening slickness of his rigid shaft but not long enough to catch her breath before he plunged her down again bringing her lips and nose flush against his pelvis. A soft grunt and a deep exhale were all that belied his release from above, but from below it was a vicious thing. His cock swelled and hardened one last time inside her mouth, filling her up and pushing almost past her tolerance. The tangy taste of him filled her then sudden and hot and she had to clench her eyes shut and concentrate, tears pooling at the corners, working every strange muscle group she had control over to swallow every drop of it down while still suckling obediently. When her throat contracted around him as he spurted into her, his vocal restraint broke entirely, a loud and unreserved moan escaping him and echoing against the walls of Skyhold's place of worship. She continued to worship him with gentle licks and suckles and soft kisses, drawing out his orgasm with every ounce of love in her until he finally released her.

She fell backward to sit on her heels, lungs heaving in and out after their brief deprivation. Despite her best efforts, one errant drop of his seed trickled down her chin. Cullen, who had briefly stumbled backwards when they separated, noisily clattering against the altar, saw that single testament to the fulfillment of his fantasy and he swooped down to capture the drop and her lips in a scorching kiss.

He lifted her up off the ground and pulled her into him. Her arms went around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. His armor cut into her in all the wrong places, but she didn't care. It was a painful, heady bliss.

"We're not done." He spoke against her lips, his words lust filled and wild. Before she knew what was happening she was spun around and thrown down upon the altar. He ripped down her leggings and dove into her core like a man possessed. Perhaps he wanted to be possessed. Perhaps that was part of this fantasy, for the Templar inside him to give in and lose control. There was no more thinking on his motivations, however, because at the first hot lick of his tongue straight up her slit she screamed. Sucking him to completion had undone her nearly as much as it had him it seemed and she was more ready for him than she thought. Her lower lips were aching and her pearl was throbbing and there was barely any time lost between the cool air of the Chantry hitting her folds to his magnificent mouth covering them again.

She screamed. Loud and long and she was sure it sounded like she was dying to any who heard her and maybe she was dying. Her legs were trapped between the steel on his shoulder and that on his arms holding her in place. It was cold and sharp and it hurt, and, _sweet Maker_ , she fucking loved it. She loved him, she loved his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his heated breath and his Templar diligence in absolutely devouring her cunt.

 _Fucking Maker, she was going to come._ Her head fell back, and above her she saw Andraste looking down in approval at her Knight servicing her Herald with such abandon. Evelyn thought she could feel the world start to quake beneath them as her orgasm screamed along with her, breaking out so unexpectedly that she had to reach down and grab two fistfuls of Cullen's hair to keep herself from bucking right off the altar.

He kept going. Firm and rhythmic, insistent laps of his tongue pushing against her driving her positively insane as he continued to attack her too sensitive bud.

"Cullen!" She pleaded between screams, "Cullen, please, please, please, please..." Her mind kept telling her to pull away but her body refused, grinding itself into his face even further. " _Fuck_! Cullen, I can't, I can't..."

He stopped. Maker bless him and damn him, he stopped and pulled away as swiftly as he had pinned her. Her legs fell to the floor and she braced herself with her hands back against the altar. They stood apart for a few breaths and she looked at her Templar lover with exhausted but still lust-filled eyes. His hair was a pile of crazed blond curls atop his head and sweat ran down his face, mingling with her cream that covered his mouth. He smiled, then he took her in his arms and kissed her.

She was weak, spent and grateful for his solid form holding her. She tasted herself on his lips and it combined with the taste of him still lingering in her throat. It was blindingly satisfying. He lowered them both down to the floor, his armor noisy and stiff, but he finally found a way to settle himself down and she wrapped her pleasantly tingling body around him.

"Evelyn?" Cullen whispered against her hair.

"Yes, love?" She murmured against his breastplate.

"I was _so_ wrong."

She smiled. "Yes, love."

"And, Evelyn?

"Yes, love?"

"I'm August."

She laughed. "Yes, love."

* * *

A/N: Just an epilogue chapter left. Thanks for reading!


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was August. _The most wonderful month of the year_ , Evelyn thought wistfully. Even this high up in the mountains, they were not spared the heat of summer. She leaned lazily against a training dummy trying not to look too interested in watching the men spar, much the same as every other woman in Skyhold currently.

It had started out innocently enough. The Inquisitor saw the whole thing unfold from the beginning. She had come outside early to sketch. Varric and Josephine, heartless taskmasters that they were, had been hounding her for weeks already to get started on a set of new images for next year's calendar. The sales had yet to taper for the current year's, their audience seeming not so concerned with tracking the days as they were with indulging in fantasy.

She'd heard that the men lucky enough to be featured were keeping track of each time they saw their own image displayed on a lady's wall either long after their month was past or far before it even came. She couldn't deny that she was one of those ladies, proudly displaying the month of August from 1st Wintermarch until this very day, when at least it was accurate.

Ser Rylen was leading the morning exercises. Which meant he was the lead peacock. And subsequently, the first to lose his shirt.

Ser Wintermarch asked Lysette if she would like to spar with him. Lysette, who had been celebrating Wintermarch for the past eight months now, happily accepted, trying to pass off the blush in her cheeks as sun exposure when Rylen very deliberately asked about her rosy color with a naughty glint in his eyes.

Ser Drakonis, otherwise known as Delrin Barris, came by to watch with a critical eye, offering encouragement to Lysette and backhanded comments to Rylen. It was then that Josephine wandered out into the yard, looking as if she had business to attend to. She marched deliberately over to Evelyn but then made some nonsense comments about things that didn't really need to be discussed. So it was clear she had only come out to play voyeur.

She lingered until she caught Barris' eye. She shamelessly gave him a coquettish wave and everything degenerated from there. Ser Barris nearly shoved Rylen aside blustering something about 'Showing him how it's really done' and then he started exchanging practice blows with Lysette who looked disappointed to see her Starkhaven beauty dismissed. Rylen was having none of that, however, and that was when the shirt came off.

Before Evelyn could blink twice, armor hit the ground, underthings were pulled off and Lysette, along with everyone else, was graced with the sight of bare Templar muscle. Evelyn's eyes went wide. _Maker!_ She had featured Rylen half-naked in his picture, but it seemed she had been terribly inaccurate. Beautiful ornate tattoos snaked down around one of his arms, almost covering it. The dark ink travelled in intricate patterns down the rippling muscles of his chest and abdomen and _lower_ and she found she couldn't help herself so she started sketching furiously, not caring that it was obvious what she was doing.

Rylen then stepped back in with Lysette, who was grinning from ear to ear. Barris, not to be outdone in front of Lady Montilyet, started throwing off his armor as well and in no time at all there were two half-naked Templars holding their swords.

Evelyn's pencil snapped in her hand. She tossed it aside and gave up trying to immortalize the moment when she could just enjoy it like everyone else. The two men started arguing. It was nothing meaningful, just ridiculous masculine banter, but it served its purpose. Lysette backed away and sat down at the edge of the sparring ring. She practically started this so it was only fair she got a front row seat. Josephine as well abandoned all attempt at disinterest.

The men swung at each other with big dramatic movements. It was ridiculous. _And intoxicating_. It was then that Evelyn noticed women, and several men, start wandering closer with curious eyes. Before long, she spied faces peeking out of windows and doorways filled with onlookers.

She was just about to applaud a particularly agile maneuver by Ser Wintermarch, when one of his other admirers snuck up behind her. Dorian and The Iron Bull came to stand next to her and Josephine.

"My dear, how many times have I told you, _you must fetch me_ when the men have their 'clothing optional' sparing sessions!" Dorian admonished her.

She rolled her eyes. "It just started, Dorian, and I assure you, it was quite impromptu."

"Pfth." Bull scoffed loudly, then he made a show of flexing his muscles. "Time to show these boys what a real man is." At which point, he grabbed up a practice weapon and looked as if he planned to engage the first soldier with the misfortune of crossing his path. Fortunately, he was intercepted by Cullen.

Evelyn sighed wistfully. _It was fun while it lasted._ Cullen, who was wearing his typical serious expression, pulled Bull aside and started talking in a low voice she couldn't hear. They wandered away and Evelyn presumed this would be the end of the morning's entertainment as Cullen was likely going to break up the sparring and order his men back into their clothes. When he and Bull came back around however, Cullen was now holding a practice sword and they squared themselves in the center of another fighting ring.

And then Dorian's dreams came true.

Cullen looked over at Evelyn fixing his gaze on her eyes as he pulled off his cloak slowly, then started removing everything above the waist until he was even less covered than Bull. She imagined she heard the distant thud of at least one female Skyhold resident passing out. Or maybe that was just Dorian.

When Bull and the Commander started fighting, the whole world seemed to grow silent, the only sounds the clash of weapons and their heavy breaths punctuated by deep voiced grunts.

And so it was that the men of Skyhold appeared to embrace their role as sex objects.

"Took him long enough." Varric's voice now appeared next to her as well. She looked down and saw the dwarf observing the strutting disguised as training with his arms folded across his chest. "You know, the picture of Curly praying in the Chantry might be your kink but next year our fans are going to want something a bit more racy, or revealing, or both. So while he's giving you a show, get to work." He gestured at the pencils and parchment still clutched in her sweaty hands. "The Calendar Boys of Thedas are a thing now, Your Inquisitorialness. So let's give our fans what they want."

Evelyn started drawing. She couldn't have agreed more.


End file.
